


Not LIke A Puppy

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-06
Updated: 2008-10-06
Packaged: 2019-03-02 10:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13315857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: Set after Judgment Day. Abby is thinking about her feelings for Tim.





	Not LIke A Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

Abby sat in her lab doodling on the paper she'd cut into shapes.

She was bored.

In fact she was very bored.

Even her mass-spectrometer was bored.

And she was unhappy.

She sighed and looked at her watch. A whole two minutes had gone by since she'd last looked.

It wasn't that she didn't have work to do, she did; it was just that she didn't want to do it on her own.

When Tim had first been reassigned to Cyber Crimes Abby had thought it would be cool for her to get back to solving things on her own for Gibbs, without Tim's help. And for the first few days it had been good; she's been tested more than she had been for a while. And okay so she'd had to IM Tim and ask him, in a round about way of course how she did something, but other than that it'd gone great. And she got all the praise from Gibbs, and she didn't have to share her Caf-Pow with anyone.

But then they had a quiet day and no one came to see her. There was no reason for anyone to come to see her. And that was when she realized: even on days when it had been quiet, even on days when he had no reason to come and see her, Tim had always found an excuse to pop down to her lab.

And it wasn't cool solving things on her own; not any longer. It was boring, not to mention the fact that she had to admit that Tim was better at some things compute related, make that a lot of things, than she was. 

But that wasn't the real problem; that wasn't why she bored and unhappy. She was bored and unhappy because she missed Tim. She missed him a lot.

And it wasn't just his help she missed. It wasn't just his skills; she missed him as a person. She missed him as Timothy McGee; as her geek; as her friend; as her Timmy; as her - 

But what did that mean? Did it mean they were wrong to have split up? But then had they ever really split up? Sure they didn't date, but both of them hated it when the other saw someone else - well she certainly did and from Tim's behavior so did he.

She'd suspected for some time that Tim loved her, or at least had loved her. That had been the main reason whey she'd suggested they didn't see one another outside of work. She hadn't been sure she was ready for love and commitment. 

Was she now?

And what was love anyway?

She did love Tim, she'd told him that enough times, but she'd always qualified it by adding 'as a friend' or 'as a puppy'. Had she been lying to herself? Had she been trying to convince herself it wasn't 'as a lover'?

If love meant missing someone, if love meant spending a lot of your time thinking about that person, if love meant thinking 'I must tell him about this', if love meant thinking of ways to speak to the other person then she loved Tim. And not as a friend or a puppy; she loved him.

She knew that now. She loved him and she wanted to be with him.

She'd tell him. 

She grabbed the phone and was about to press the number she'd keyed into her speed-dial the first day he'd gone when the door swished open. "I haven't got the results for you yet, Gibbs," she called, without turning around.

"I'm not Gibbs, Abbs," said a voice she knew so well.

She turned round on her stool and there, standing in the doorway, a Caf-Pow in his hand was Tim. 

She didn’t know who was the more surprised, Tim or herself, when she took the drink from him, pushed it onto the bench, ignored the fact that it fell over and began to drip onto the floor, and instead flung herself into his arms.


End file.
